


Selfish

by audreyslove



Series: Escort Series [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 18:20:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14086821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audreyslove/pseuds/audreyslove
Summary: For #OQPromptParty2018205: Regina being selfish in bed





	Selfish

It's still a novel concept for Regina, being selfish during sex. 

It's not exactly  _ selfish _ , but it feels that way when she gets to ask for things she wants.  

She and Daniel had been so young, and their time together was brief.  She had slowly been coming out of her shell, shedding insecurities over her body and sex and whatever else her mother had instilled in her.

And then there had been Leo, and that was...well, all about him.  There were things sometimes she might have wanted to ask for, but she never wanted them from  _ him  _ anyway.

Mal had been a teacher, very much, and things Regina asks for in bed with Mal are things she knows the client will enjoy seeing or doing.  

So this, sex with Robin, it's very new.  He's so absolutely committed to making it all about her, to making sure every time is about her pleasure.  She indulges in all of it as if it were some decadent buffet, piling her plate high with every blissful moment she can carry with her.

And it's changing her.  Makes her crave sex in a way she never truly had before. 

Today is one of those days.  Her body has been pulsing with want since the moment she woke up.  She should have just taken care of herself before she started her Saturday, but Henry had asked for pancakes and she had slept a bit longer than she had expected to.

So she put it out of her mind.

Or tried.

She knows, can admit to herself at least, that when she called Robin today, she had a certain activity in mind.  But she's a child and too embarrassed to be direct on what she wants, so she mentioned that practice for Henry is three-and-a-half hours today and right around the corner from his house, and if he wanted, she could stop by for lunch.

He tells her she's always welcome (she knows that).  And she really didn’t think anything can happen anyway.  Roland will be there, after all.

She knocks lightly on the door and there's Robin, in a white tee shirt and jeans that made his ass look fantastic.

“Hey,” she says, feeling ridiculous as her eyes wander over him.

“Hello,” he says, leaning against the door frame.  “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she responds, fighting every urge to blush.  She's not all dressed up to see him — not really. she's wearing her favorite jeans, with little sandalled wedges that help make her ass look amazing, and then a black tank top with a plaid little zipped cardigan over it.  But he looks at her as if she were half naked, swallowing heavy as his eyes stick to the hint of cleavage the well-fitted tank top has arranged.

“Where’s Roland?” she asks, suddenly aware that this game of inappropriate glances cannot continue with a child in the house.  “I’m looking forward to seeing him.”

Robin looks guilty and cringed.  “I uh, let him go with John to the park.  He said he wanted some quality time with Roland and that playing with him is great weight loss...but if you ask me the man is using Roland to pick up girls.” He rolls his eyes, and she laughs.  It sounds like John. “I'm sorry, I would have had him stay around if I knew you wanted to see him.”

“I  _ always _ want to see him,” she corrects, which brings a smile to Robin’s face.  She really always does want to see him. She  _ shouldn't,  _ it'll make things more complicated when she inevitably leaves his life forever, but she loves that little boy.

“Sorry,” Robin says, scratching his head, “a bit of a poor move on my part.”

“I'll catch him later,” she assures with a smile.  He nods, and then moves toward her, running a hand through her hair.  For a second she misinterprets the action and her eyes close, her mouth parts, and she almost — almost — claims his lips.  But he's pulling something out of her hair, and her cheeks heat in embarrassment.

“Dandelion puff,” he says, showing her the seed.  

She really just wants to wrap her arms around him and kiss him senseless, have a quickie right here in his living room in the middle of the day.  But she swallows down her desire and tries to act like an adult instead of a sex crazed adolescent. Let it come naturally.

The thing is, he's looking at her like he'd enjoy the hell out of it.

“Do you want something to drink?” Robin asks, after it seems like they say nothing for too long, just staring at one another.

“Sure.” 

She follows him to the kitchen.  He opens the fridge. “There's water, some chardonnay, beer, orange juice, seltzer water…”

It turns out the only thing she’s truly thirsty for is him, she realizes. as she appreciates his backside.  He has a really nice ass. And it's bold, but at this point he knows her, knows how she feels about him, so why not?

She slips her hand into his back jeans pocket and gives his ass a little squeeze while he's still going on about drink suggestions.

That shuts him up immediately.  He lets out a little  _ mmm!  _ that makes her shiver.  

And then he turns around and smiles at her. “Is yours fair game then?” he asks, looping an arm around her waist.  “Because I've wanted to do exactly that since the moment you walked in.”

She nods, takes his hand and places it on the swell of her ass for him, then leans in and kisses him.

“God your ass is perfect,” he moans between heady kisses.

“So is yours,” she murmurs back. He chuckles at that, as if he still doesn't believe her.  “It  _ is,” _ she insists. 

Realization sparks in her like a lightbulb suddenly turning on, and she pulls out of a heady kiss with a wet pop, moving back far enough so she can look him in the eyes.

“You knew I wanted this, didn't you?” she asks, diving in to give his lips a quick peck, “you guessed when I called, that's why Roland is—”

Robins cheeks redden, dimples show as he smiles sheepishly.  “I think I know you pretty well by now...” he says, swooping to kiss her neck.  God, his tongue is amazing, every firm lick and warm breath draws gooseflesh on her sensitive skin. “Or maybe I was just hoping you'd want it as badly as I do,” he murmurs into her pulse point before sucking that spot that always has her gasping.

He lets her lead like he always does, lets her move him into the guest bedroom, kissing and touching her the ways he's learned she likes. 

“What brought this on?” he asks between sloppy kisses, “so I can remember to repeat whatever it is.”

“Mmm, just woke up this way,” Regina responds, “sexy dream...” she pulls off his shirt and lets out a deep sigh, running her fingers over his chest.  Robin chuckles, the way he always does when he catches her gawking at him. He has a hint of shyness, a little humble side despite that confident cocky armor he always tends to wear in public.

“Fuck I wish I was there first thing in the morning” he rasps, stripping her of her cardigan, kissing the newly exposed flesh of her shoulders, “the idea of you waking me up like this...I’d never recover…” 

She tries to laugh, but she is still not used to having this, despite a very active sex life. She has never had outstanding, amazing sex dreams where she woke up sweaty and needy and cursing the fact she didn't share a bed with someone who could tend to her needs and soothe all her aches.

And now she has it, and she loves it, and she never wants to let it go.  

“Take off your shirt,” she orders, a shiver running through her as he complies all too willingly.

“I like you like this,” she admits, stroking his chest, feeling all the muscles contract under her.  He breathes out something that feels like a little chuckles, but it's more of a choked puff of breath.  She knows that he's… affected by her touch, always has been. She loves that after all this time he still gets like  _ this  _ over a few complimentary works and well placed touches on relatively innocent areas.  

“I remember the first time with you, when I took off your clothes,” she says as she plants little pecks into newly exposed skin.  “I was already… worked up. And then… well, that was quite the bonus or me.” It’s an honest admission, and one he certainly knows by now, still, she feels her ears burn and her cheeks heat as soon as the words are out. 

Robin kisses her deeply, tongue filled and passionate, and then parts with a simple, “Liar”.  It's playful and sweet, not accusatory like it's been in the past when that word has been used by her asshole of an ex-husband.  And that fact, that little difference, has her grinning ear to ear.

“It's true,” she giggles, as he tugs on the the hem of her tank top, pulling it up and over her.  “Thought about you a few days later… had to touch myself.”

He's devouring her now, kissing his way down her neck a bit more frenzied. Her little confession causes him to groan into her flesh, to take a breast out of her bra and give her hardened nipples a little suck.

“Well  _ I _ ,” he says, releasing her nipple with a smack of his lips, “thought about you a few  _ hours _ later.” He moves his hands to the button of her jeans and looks at her, waits, until she meets his eyes and gives a little nod.  Bless him, after all this time, he still waits for explicit permission. She lifts her hips for him, adjusts as he unbuttons, unzips and yanks her jeans down and off her body.  “As you already know.”

“Mm,”  she closes her eyes, feeling a twinge of embarrassment, but it's a giddy rush of happiness, realizing how much he craves her.  

He's kneeling in front of her, holding one of her legs up over his shoulders as he kisses up her calves, smoothing a hand up her inner thigh, cupping at her core.

She can feel his warmth through the silk that is between them, his skilled fingers pressing against where she's already wet.

“I like this,” he says, motioning to her lingerie, smoothing his hand over the fabric between her legs in a slow, delicious motion.  She wears rather demure lingerie on her days off, usually. No need for itchy, frilly lace, ridiculous bows, or bright satin folds that always remind her of her double life.  But she finds she rather likes the way he looks at her in matching lingerie, so she's wearing transparent silk with scraps of lace weaved throughout, wrapping around edges. It's nothing too crazy, it's comfortable, supportive, but it's sexy, and hers.  It's not Alexandra's. It's not for her clients. She wears it without a lick of shame or painful memories burning through her, and well, she loves that.

“Shall I keep it on then?” she asks, toying with the hem of her underwear suggestively as she bites her lip to tamp down a smile.

Robin chuckles, shakes his head.  “As much as I like it, it  _ is _ covering up some of my favorite things on earth.”

He sets her leg down, off his shoulder, and crawls over her body to kiss her again, a hand wiggling behind her, between the bed and her back.  He undoes her bra with a careful flick of his wrist, a practiced, fluid movement that echoes of years of experience. She smirks, thinking that no one would ever be able to guess just how few women he's been with.  Not with how confident he is, how skilled he is at satisfying a woman’s needs.

“I even thought about you this morning,” he murmurs, taking her left breast in his mouth, sucking the way he knows she loves, “about being with you when you first wake up,” he kisses between her breasts before making his way to her other nipple, “seems unfair that you wanted me too and I couldn’t be there for you.” 

“It would have been nice if you had been around…” she murmurs, pushing back the anxiety she  _ still  _ has every time she admits that she is attached to him, that she wants him around. 

It's okay, it's a fantasy.

“I could have woken you up, moved you where I want—” she's kind of thrilled with the idea of it, the idea of having someone to service  _ her  _ needs, and Christ, is he ever eager to do the servicing.  When she palms his head and pushes it down her body, he moans,  _ moans _ for her, even though he’s going to get no pleasure of his own, and goes where she directs.  He kisses up her thighs, her underwear still on, though she wants it off, she’s turned on, and she doesn’t want to put on soaked underwear to wear the rest of the day around her son.

And there’s really no reason she shouldn’t have them off, is there?  She hooks thumbs inside the waistband, arching her back to wiggle out of the already damp undies, when Robin chuckles.  

“Can I do the honors?”

She laughs lightly back, because christ, she’s all keyed up and needy and it should be obvious, and yet, he still asks, he always asks, and it’s  _ sexy,  _ not awkward at all.

“Please.” He tugs at the last scrap of clothing on her body and yanks it off in a smooth, forceful motion.  A bit of nervous energy swells up in her, and she can’t help but let it out with a little yelp as he strips her bare.

“Gorgeous,” Robin says, looking at her naked body as if it were a work of art.  He’s ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous, and she should be bored of the way he treats her by now.  But she isn’t. Because he’s sitting between her legs holding a raised calf in his hand, kissing up it slowly, as if he were experiencing everything for the first time.

“We don’t have much time,” she warns, squirming under his touch.  “Henry… practice isn’t that long, I—”

“Mm, I know how much time we have,” he mutters as he kisses his way to her thighs.  They quake under his touch, and she sucks a deep breath in and holds it as pleasure zings and pops under the skin.   
  
She squirms as he gives her these teasing touches and kisses that rile her up.  And frankly, she doesn't need them at all.   
  


“Robin, I promise — ah! —  I promise I don’t need the foreplay,” 

That seems to catch his attention - has him groaning in that sexy way of his, right into her skin.  His mouth is on her navel now, rounding a corner up around her belly button. He’s going to kiss his way down her other leg instead of making his way to her clit, she just knows it.

“I’m so wet,” she admits (it’s true, it might be mostly her mood, how sexually charged she’s been all day, but the thrill of having him in the middle of the day and him responding and touching her the way he has certainly ramped everything up to a whole other level).  

Robin looks up at her, smiling proudly from between her thighs, licking and kissing in sensitive areas so close to where she wants him.  “Do you want me to stop teasing?”

He’s not just asking to deny her, she realizes. He’s asking because he’s really going to do what she says, give her what she wants.  

It’s almost unsettling, having this sort of freedom, this choice to do what she wants.

But now that he’s offered over the control, she finds she actually enjoys being worked up.

“No, keep doing that — ahh!— a bit longer.”

“Whatever you want, Regina.  Always.” 

He’s so damn sincere she could almost cry. 

He does what she’s asked, gives her teasing touches, drawing his tongue near, lightly pressing her clit, then swiping through her folds instead.  He fucks her with his tongue, as she’s moaning, scratching nails through his hair as he eats at her. 

“Robin— oh, fuck, I’m, I want—“

She directs him to where she wants him, gripping his head and moving it until his mouth is lined up with her center.  He murmurs  _ fuck, love you when you are bossy,   _ that almost makes her laugh (would have, if she wasn’t so riled) and then he’s licking at her, those long, slow licks she likes, alternating with little presses of his tongue. 

She’s rocking into him, gasping and writhing as she presses him harder into her sex.

And this is wonderful, so wonderful, would definitely get her off, but…

It’s nice, certainly nice, but not exactly what she’d been imagining, not the position she had dreamed about. 

“Oh god, Robin, I want…”

But she trails off. An orgasm is an orgasm, and she’s going to have one either way.  She doesn’t  _ need  _ any certain position, particularly when Robin is  _ thoroughly  _ enjoying himself in this one (he’s ravenous, slurping and sucking and moaning when she presses into him.)

Robin, however, won’t let her have any of it.  “What do you want?”He parts himself from her sex and looks up, until her eyes meet his.  “Anything you want, whatever it is. You can tell me, I just want to give it to you.”

A hint of anxiety wells up inside her, makes her dizzy before she chases it away with common sense.  Robin won’t deny her anything, she knows that.

“Can I— _ mmm! _ ” He decides to go in for another taste, it seems, and cuts her off with a particular firm swirl of his tongue, that has her wondering if it’s  _ really  _ worth losing the feeling of his mouth on her, even if for a moment.  But it’s on her mind, so she shuts her eyes tight, and asks, “Can I sit on your face?”

She sucks a breath in, preparing for mortification to come, but Robin answers her immediately with an excited moan.

“Fuck, I’m never going to get the sound of you asking that out of my head,” he groans, and then he’s flopping on his back next to her, urging her up.  “Please, do, I want you to. Thought about this so much.”

And how perfect is it that their fantasies align?

She scoots over to him, grabs the headboard and straddles his head, her thighs pressing against his ears.  She lowers herself onto him so she’s almost sitting, and then waits for him. He grips at her thighs, but doesn’t otherwise move.  And then she feels him tap, so she lifts herself up, slides down, until she can see his face, and looks at him with some confusion.

“You’re barely touching me,” he smiles at her sweetly.  “I can’t imagine that would be nearly as fun. Sit, grind on me, move how you want to.  I’m not delicate.”

She’s had this position before, but not with Daniel, not with people who care for her.  It’s all about their needs, not hers. So she’s not used to fully using it to advantage  _ her. _  It’s what she had craved, and yet it seems her body is in autopilot, falling into the usual formation when this position is suggested.

“Make yourself feel good on me,” Robin requests, as if he were asking her a god damned favor.  “Please.”

She inches back over him, lowers herself more fully.  He reaches for her hips, and presses her down more firmly.  She laughs, but then it’s not so funny.

He’s skilled at this position, and for a second she has an incredibly inappropriate thought that Marian must have a preference for it this way, but she chases it away, no need to think about her Robin with anyone else.  

His hands grip at her backside in a way that makes everything feel… more.  She is in control, rocking into Robin, grinding into his tongue, but he’s still responds to her, his tongue swirling and pressing against her clit, lips smacking as he sucks around her sensitive nub.  

There’s a strong suck that has her gasping, falling forward and bracing herself against the headboard, and Robin respondes by squeezing at her ass tighter, moaning a bit into her sex (god, it feels so good when he does that, the vibrations ramp everything up to make it  _ more.   _

There’s no part of her worrying about his ability to breathe, or enjoy this, not now, not when she’s fully grinding his entire face, chasing her pleasure, and she’s close, so close, climbing that peak faster and faster, and oh fucking christ, why didn’t they do this earlier?

“Fuck, Robin!” he moans again, a hand falls down to run through his hair as she looks down at him, all hers, working hard for her. “God you feel so good, please, I, can you, suck—ohh!”

He sucks the second she asks, and hard, his tongue swirling around her clit before he does so, his hands squeeze and grip at her ass tightly and everything comes crashing together.

“Oh god, Robin, I’m going to, I’m — fuck!”

She moans and careens forward when she topples over that edge, nearly shifts entirely off his mouth, but he holds her in place, lets her ride out her orgasm just as she is, letting her grind against his tongue until the very last of those little tremors fade away.

“Wow,” Regina gasps, breathless as she falls back by Robin’s side, breathless and panting.

He’s red-faced and a bit sweaty, but smiling, still, looking absolutely ecstatic to see her.  

“That was fantastic,” she says, suddenly feeling giddy and young.  

Robin chuckles, and nods.  “It absolutely was for me. Are you fully satiated, or can I give you another?”

He lifts a hand to his jaw then, and starts massaging it, and she really should cringe at his discomfort instead of being proud, but, well, she’s never had the opportunity to work a man into the ground for her own pleasure before, and she’s so happy she’s had a chance to experience it.

She kisses him, tastes herself on him, and it stirs something in her yet again.  

“I think,” Regina says, shifting down to take his cock in her hand, “there is something else I want.”

“Yeah?” He bites his lip and winces as she strokes him.  “I can —  _ mmm _ , missed your touch— I can give you whatever you want, love, just ask.”

She nips at his ear, the laves it with her tongue.“I want you inside me,” she whispers into it.  Want to ride you, take you hard and fast.”

Robin groans out a  _ “God,  _ yes” and urges her eagerly on top of him.

And then she’s taking control again, angling her body until everything fits  _ just so,  _ he’s thrusting into her and hitting that spot inside that makes her see stars.  

“Fuck, god, right there.” she encourages, “That's good, so good, don’t stop…”

He’s not really doing much, really.  He’s meeting each rock of her hips, but she’s setting the rhythm. He moves his hands to cup and fondle her breasts, to slide down to her belly, her side, her hips, her ass, but has otherwise lets her control things.

Still, he whispers back, “Won’t stop, promise.”

She tilts back, takes him deeper, and everything goes shaper, please sparking and lighting her up.  

“Mm, this was — _ oh!—  _ what I needed,” she rasps.

Robin just  grabs at her, nails digging into her skin, shuts his eyes tight and nods.

“You feel so, so, good, mm!  so wet, tight,  _ fuck!” _

She watches as he bites his lip, gives her that look that she knows means he’s close.  But she holds back, keeps the speed just slow enough to where she won’t reach that pleasurable peak again.  She’s addicted to the way he looks, how hard he’s trying to please her.

When she hears his whimpered  _ Oh God, Regina, come for me please _ , his face screwed and fighting his release, she takes pity on him, shifts her body back  so every thrust hits her clit.

“Oh!” She cries out, bracing palms on his chest as she careens forward, gripping the skin underneath as she fucks him even harder.

“That’s right, love, take what you need,” Robin pants, “God, yes, want to feel you come on me, please, feels so good, fuck!”

She’s been on the edge for so long, and the sound of Robin when he’s in pleasure like this is so hot that it only takes a few more meetings of their hips before she’s coming again, shouting his name, waves of pleasure crashing down on her as she rides him, bracing a palm on his chest.

“Can I—?” he asks, but he knows the answer.  

“Always,” she tells him, and he curses softly, holds her tightly, says her name in a way that sounds so damn sexy, and spills into her.

When the moment is over, she lies down next to him, and cuddles into him for a few minutes in the afterglow, stroking his cheek, his hair, trading little kisses back and forth.

“That was….” He trails off for a second and ducks down to give her a sheepish smile.  “Wow.. I didn’t think I was going to last there, for a second.” He’s still panting, looking absolutely proud of himself.

Regina laughs.  

“I’m serious.  I love seeing you all blissed out like that.  It’s very erotic.” He pecks at her lips, draws back and brushes his hand tenderly through her hair., “God you’re beautiful.  I love this, with you.” He hugs her tighter and she knows it’s not just about the sex he’s talking about. They both love being wrapped around each other in these quiet moments.  She loves them, craves them more than anything else. 

She has no idea why she will do when she loses  _ this. _

“I should get going.” She says quickly, before she loses her nerves.   

It’s time to get dressed and leave.

Now.  

“Do you have to run right off?” He asks, tracing up her arm gently.  “Can you stay for a few more minutes just like this, with me?”

He’s so good to her, so loving, gentle, but firm and confident, and she’s so, so lucky he hired her all those months ago, or else she’d never be able to appreciate  _ this,  _ a man who’s dedicated to making her feel good, who truly cares, who lets her seek her own pleasure instead of expecting her to attend to her own needs.

She should really go, because this arrangement is far more than she deserves, and she’s going to get far too addicted to being treated this way and it will hurt like hell when it’s all taken away from her.  

But she glances at his alarm clock and finds she has a few more minutes before she has to go get Henry.  So she ignored her better judgment, snuggles into him closer, and sighs her answer.

“I’ll stay.   For a few more minutes.”


End file.
